An Eventful Afternoon On Fleet Street
by cheshirexpirate
Summary: Would it ever be possible for Nellie Lovett to get a word in edgewise with her favourite barber. Apparently, there were just too many people to murder.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd, but couldn't you have figured that out yourself?

Signor Adolfo Pirelli wore a corset. It was rather obvious. Most men didn't have chests that were that puffed out. The effect was rather rooster like and made him even less attractive than he already was. Still, it wasn't so bad; he could look like Beadle Bamford and have the perverted streak to match.

"Oh, look at it now," I said, gazing at the young boy who was his assistant. "You wouldn't mind if I gave him a nice, juicy meat pie, would you?"

"Si, si, si, whatever you want," he replied, waving the child and I away.

"Your teeth are strong, I hope. Close the door."

He obeyed and sat down at one of the booths near the window.

"Here: eat up," I said, placing the treat in front of him.

So, it really wasn't a treat. So, it really didn't taste good. Sometimes a girl needs to use her imagination. I certainly did or I would have ended up in Bedlam years ago.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said as he devoured it.

He must never be fed, he ate that pie with such vigour. I've never seen someone put away one of my pies so quickly and willingly. Well, not since Albert died, when I could actually get "normal" meat. I wouldn't have been surprised to hear that Pirelli never gave the boy food. He mistreated him so badly anyway, that it wouldn't be a far stretch.

"What's your name, deary?" I asked him.

"Toby, ma'am."

"You've got quite an appetite. Reminds me of my dear Albert," I mused, turning to the portrait of my late husband by the door. "Used to gorge himself to bloatation, he did. Mind you, he didn't have your nice head of hair."

It was true-he was bald as a baby. Even more so, perhaps. And he was fat. Really it was a wonder I could cook enough food to feed him, never mind myself. Much as he was unattractive and I didn't love him, I still cried for him at his funeral. He was a good man, took care of me besides. And I was glad to have a protector, though I may have preferred to have Benjamin Barker.

"To tell the truth, it gets awful hot," the boy said, pulling off the long blonde hair to reveal that it was a wig.

Well, that certainly explained a lot about Pirelli's Miracle Elixir. But, I couldn't just sit there talking to the child. I had work to do, whether it brought in much money or not. I was at my counter rolling out dough when there was a loud, violent noise from upstairs. Toby looked to the ceiling. Clearly, he'd heard it and was curious. I switched from rolling to pounding immediately. I even clattered my bowl and utensils around to make more of a commotion. The boy gave me an odd look.

"Always something to do. Spick and span, that's my motto," I spun as fast as I could.

He just looked at a pocket watch and his eyes widened.

"Oh, no! He's got an appointment with his tailor. It'll be my fault if he's late!" he exclaimed, rushing out of the door and up the stairs to Mr Todd's shop.

By the time I said, "Wait!" he was out of sight.

I sighed, rather apprehensive. I didn't know what had happened up there, but it couldn't be good. After a few minutes, however, Toby came back down and told me that Pirelli had gone and Mr Todd had said to give him some gin. Gin? For a child? Well, there were worse things I could give him. I went to my cupboard and came back to the booth with a glass and bottle. The instant I finished pouring the drink he'd downed it and was asking for a second serving. I obliged, but hoped he wouldn't ask for a third. He did. I gave it to him.

"You should slow down there, love. It'll go straight to your head," I commented.

What had happened up there? Surely, Pirelli wasn't the sort of man to just leave his property. After all, that's what Toby was, unfortunately. And the other barber was greedy. There was no way that he had just left without his apprentice. What had he wanted in the first place, besides? I became vaguely aware that the boy had stopped talking.

"That's nice, dear," I mumbled. "I'm going to go check on Mr Todd."

When I got up to the second floor. I was all set to scold Mr T for telling the boy he could have alcohol. He was standing by the trunk to the left of the door, his back to me.

"Oh, that boy is drinking me out of house and home," I complained. "How long till Pirelli gets back?"

"He won't be back."

Mr Todd had turned about so that he was facing me. Though his reply initially confused me I knew exactly what he meant by a red stain on his sleeve.

"Mr T! You didn't!" I gasped.

He nodded his head to to trunk. He hadn't. He couldn't have! I cautiously lifted the the lid of the box, but dropped it at the sight of a bloodied cravat.

"You're barking mad!" I whispered.

"He tried to blackmail me. Half my earnings," Mr T said, easily.

He didn't seem to care at all that there was a bloody carcass sitting, rotting away in the very room he stood. But, I could see his side of things.

"Oh...well, that's a different matter, then. For a moment there, I though you'd lost your marbles," I sighed, relief overtaking me.

I opened the lid again, able to stomach the sight knowing that it was a just crime.

"All that blood," I muttered.

Then I noticed something. A certain cord. I was coming out of his jacket at the chest. I grasped the end of the cord and pulled out a coin purse. Sliding it open, I discovered a significant amount of money in it. And it wasn't as if he would ever be able to use it now.

"Waste not, want not."

That was my real motto. After all, why, if it was sitting right in front of you with no owner but a dead one, would you not take money. It could help me get by, seeing as business wasn't exactly booming. Tucking the object into my bodice, a though crossed my mind.

Closing the lid and leaning on it, I said, "What about the boy?"

There was a pause before Mr Todd answered, "Send him up."

He was looking at his razor maliciously. There was only on thing on his mind at the moment and that was bloodlust. I wasn't about to let that sweet little Toby be killed over nothing. He was just a child and not a bright one at that. He wouldn't be a problem.

"No, we don't need to. He's a simple thing."

"Send him up," he repeated with more force.

"Now, Mr T, don't you think one's enough for today?" I said trying to calm him down. "Besides, I was thinking of hiring a lad to help around the shop. My poor knees ain't what they used to be."

So, it was a lie. Anybody could tell you that I never needed any help, because I never had any customers. I couldn't even afford to pay him. He seemed to like the pies well enough, though, so I would give him those in exchange. Mr Todd simply nodded his agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

I suppose I knew the judge would come eventually, but I didn't realize his timing would be so inconvenient. Honestly, in the middle of a conversation with Mr T and then the man, who it seems wasn't listening to me (isn't that just the story of my life), says, "The judge." I didn't want to leave, but seeing as my beloved barber had a razor and bloodlust, along with the whole "Get out," order, I figured it might be a good idea.

As I walked down the stairs, low and behold, there he was, looking as arrogant as ever, though a bit tentative, I should say. It was then, however, that he noticed me. There was no change in Judge Turpin's face, but in his eyes, an odd glint appeared. We met half was on the staircase.

"Good day, M' Lord," I said.

"Good day, Mrs Lovett," he replied.

We'd met before, you see, when he came for Johanna. Even then he was a bit of a...well, pervert might have been a small understatement, but I was recently widowed and he was "proper", so he let me alone. Now, though, it had been sixteen years since Albert had died, which meant that the time of mourning was gone. He was still staring at me. Well, at least this would give Mr T more time to hide whatever evidence of the previous murder was left.

"I hope your pie business is doing well," he said.

What was he on about? Everyone in London knew of my infamous pies and how my shop was doing. As if he didn't know already. I humoured him anyway.

"No, actually, M'Lord," I answered.

"Really?" he didn't sound too interested. "Well, if you need any help, just alert either Beadle Bamford or myself to it. I'm sure we'd be able to come up with a...solution, Nellie."

'What's he playing at?' I thought, "Calling me by my first name like that. He ain't got the right!"

He had come closer, leaning right into me, and mumbled, "Do get back to me, Nellie."

'There he goes, using my name again, the bloody git.'

I was about to object to that annoying tendency, but he had moved away and was about to open Mr Todd's door. He turned back and gave me a leer before disappearing into the shop. I nearly smiled at the thought that I would never have to deal with that man again. Being that as it was, I went back to my pie shop to the poor boy who, on top of everything, was apparently an alcoholic.

"Maybe you ought to stop drinking, dearie," I suggested.

"Nah, missis, it's better if I can't completely feel Pirelli hitting me, you know, when he gets back."

Poor thing, couldn't even handle being sober with the man. Well, good job Mr T polished him off then.

"Lad, Pirelli, uh-," I stopped speaking for a moment as I watched the sailor, Anthony, leap up the stairs to Mr Todd's shop.

He wouldn't be a problem, though. Knowing Mr T like I do, the judge was probably keeping Pirelli company in the trunk.

"-Won't be coming back," I finished.

"What?" he replied, a look of both confusion and pain on his face.

"He just left. Said he wasn't coming back. Good news, though, love, I've been needing a lad to help 'round here, so you're welcome to stay and help me."

He didn't even consider it, immediately saying, "Yes, ma'am, I'd like that very much!"

"Right then," I said. "You're first job will be-"

SLAM!

The sound was followed by a tinkling, indicating that someone in the barber shop upstairs had left. But why would anyone be leaving the shop so furiously. The youth didn't seem to be of that nature and Judge Turpin was surely dead by now. Something was wrong. Without another word to Toby, I flew through the door to my courtyard and was only a quarter of the way up to Mr Todd, when I fell back. After I recovered from hitting the pavement, I looked up at what had blocked me. Judge Turpin, alive as ever. He was livid, but nowhere near dead. He looked down at me and pointed in my face.

"You, Madam, are housing an accomplice to ne'er do wells and you would be smart to evict him immediately. I hope to see you in," here he eyed me lustily, though he was still furious. "better circumstances."

He stormed past me closely followed by Anthony, who was careful to run in the opposite direction of the Judge. Something was definitely wrong. Very wrong, in fact, and I knew Mr Todd couldn't be in a good mood. I would have to risk my life for the rest of the day because of these minutes. Sometimes I can't believe the things I do for that man.


End file.
